


An angel, a cowboy and Luke Skywalker

by Hectatess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 21:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12591160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hectatess/pseuds/Hectatess
Summary: When Cas hears Sam’s surprised call, he imediately flies over. However, neither Winchester can tell him what happened, and they don’t trust him either... what happens next? Well, it includes dressing up...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in preparation for a Halloween exchange, here on AO3. It didn’t get requested, so, now I’m posting it anyway.
> 
> Thanks for Nathyfaith, who helped me embed my little Chibi. I made it a while back, because my daughter wanted Chibi’s of the boys.

 

Castiël had always kept an ear out for pleas from either Winchester brother. So when he received a desperate call of ‘Oh God, what the Hell?’ from Sam, he made his way there, following the panicked exasperation like a lodestar. He reappeared into a motelroom, what else, and faced the doublebarrel of a shotgun. Unimpressed, his eyes travelled along the barrels, to meet determined, if somewhat surprised, green eyes. What caught Cas off guard, was the fact that he had to look **down** to meet said eyes. “Who the Hell are you, mister?”

Cas bit his lip. This was unexpected. It seemed Dean somehow got deaged. Tilting his head he asessed the boy’s age to be approximately eight, and he was wearing only one of his adult shirts. “Now, Dean, put the gun down before you hurt someone.” he tried to reason.

Dean scoffed, cynisism already high for an eight year old. “I don’t fucking think so, asshat. You ain’t stayin’ here. I gotta protect Sammy.”

Cas lit up. That was right. Sam had called, in a way. “Sam. He is the one who called me. How is he? May I see him?” Another scoff, and a detrimined cocking of both barrels.

“That’s priceless. Sammy couldn’t have called.” This puzzled Castiël.

“Why not?” But his question was answered by a soft movement behind the boy. Shaggy, brown hair and big hazel eyes peeked around Dean’s shoulder. “De? Is he a bad man?”

Cas stepped back, utterly shocked. “Oh my... This is not good.”  
Dean smirked sarcasticly and adjusted his aim to keep Castiël covered. “No shit, mister. Now git, or I’m gonna shoot your ass off.”  
Raising his hands, Castiël tried a different tack. “Now, boys. Don’t do anything rash. How about I call Bobby?”

Dean tilted his head minutely. “You know uncle Bobby?”  
Cas nodded. “Grumpy old man, never without his trucker cap, owns a junkyard?”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “It’s a salvage, but ok... if he comes here and tells us you’re ok, I might be inclined to let you off the hook.” Green eyes fixed and hard, Dean watched how Cas pulled out his phone and dialed Bobby.  
“The Hell is that? A voice recorder?”  
Cas shook his head, mouthed ‘phone’ and waited for Bobby to pick up.

“Bobby... it’s Castiël. Listen... I...”

Dean raised the gun again. “No funny business, mister... I’ll blow you so full of holes a Swiss cheese will envy you.”

Cas heard Bobby gasp.  
“Is that... Dean?” he asked, voice a bit higher in disbelieve.  
Cas raised his eyebrows. “It is... how did you know?”

Bobby chuckled. “I took care of those two for years. I taught him that threat.” A scratching sound came through the speaker. “Is it me or does he sound like he’s seven or eight years old?”

Cas sighed. “Yes. He does. That’s why I called. What might have erm.. happened?”  
A tense silence held the line, then... “Balls. I told those idjets to be careful. They were supposed to be in Massachusetts, hunting what we thought might be a witch.”

Castiël eyed the young kids. “I think your guess was accurate.”

A heavy sigh. “What does Sam say happened?”  
Castiël looked at the boys again, amazed at how much of their later personalities were already showing. Dean was fiercly protective, and Sam insatiably curious.

“De? Who’s dat man talkin’ to?” the little guy asked, hiking up his way too big t-shirt.  
“Shush now, Sammy. He **says** he’s talking to Bobby...”  
The hazel eyes widened enthousiaticly. “Unca Bobby? Mister? Can I talk to him too?”

Castiël felt his heart melt at the eager request. Dean wanted to shush his brother, but Cas offered him the phone. “Of course you can, Sam.”  
The kid gingerly took the overexpensive hardware and pressed it to his ear. “Unca Bobby?”  
He must have pressed his little cheek against the speaker button, because Bobby’s amused voice rang from the speaker.

“Hi there Sam. How’re you boys holdin’ up?” The fact that it really was Bobby on the phone, relaxed Dean too. He finally broke eyecontact with Castiël and a smile tugged on the corner of his mouth. The gun stayed trained steadily though.

“Hiya uncle Bobby. We’re ok for now. So, who’s the creeper with the baby blues?”  
Castiël smirked. That was definitely Dean.  
“Now, son, even if you don’t know a body, always be polite.” Bobby scolded.  
“But uncle Bobby... he just walked into our room.. and... and Dad isn’t here, but the car is and... there’s only old guys clothes and... I gotta take care of Sammy...” Dean’s voice rose in a panicked lilt.

“Calm down, boy. Ain’t no use to fret about stuff ye can’t change. Cas is good people. He’s... he’s a Hunter too. Now, because John is caught up with that witch, Cas offered to help look after you.” Dean scoffed, and with what Castiël knew about John, he was inclined to join the boy.

“I always took care of Sammy. Why would Dad send a babysitter all of a sudden?”  
Bobby clacked his tongue. “Well... it wasn’t exactly John that sent Cas. I did. It’s near Halloween, and that’s always a tricky time. Especially for kids. More so for Hunter’s kids. You stay put and listen to Cas, ok?”  
Pouting spectaculairly, Dean uncocked the gun. “I guess so, uncle Bobby. But I ain’t eating veggies!”  
Castiël snorted back a laugh.

“I’m sure he won’t even try to give you those... Can you put him back on?” Glaring, Dean passed Cas the phone back. Cas pressed the button, and put the phone to his ear.

“Cas?” Bobby sounded careful.  
“It’s me. So...” he trailed off, watching the boys talk softly to eachother.  
“So.” Bobby agreed. “Sam got hit too? Balls! Don’t let them outta your sight, Feathers... Something changed them, and we need to find out what. Check the room, and if possible, them. See if you can get an inkling of what caused this, and what we need to undo it.”

Castiël nodded. “I will take care of them. That was my task to begin with.”  
Sam giggled. “You talk silly, like an old man on tv.”

Dean shushed him, but the smirk around his mouth told Cas, that he secretly agreed with Sam. Castiël sighed deeply. “This could prove a bit difficult.”

Bobby sniggered. “I knew those two around this age. It will be a miracle if this aint gonna be difficult. I’m hauling ass over there. Text me the address. Bye.”  
Castiël sighed again. “I will be in touch. Goodbye, Bobby.” He hung up and turned to the boys, who incidentally also were his best friends.  
“Now, Dean, can I please move? It will be easier to help you, if I’m allowed to.” It was with an ill grace, but Dean lowered the gun and stepped aside


	2. Chapter 2

Dean eyed the stranger in the creeper coat. Uncle Bobby had said this ‘Cas’ was ok, but he hadn’t really ‘walked’ into the room. He just popped into existance. He hadn’t told uncle Bobby that. Dean wanted to see Bobby’s face when he dropped that little morsel. If the guy was something unnatural, and he hadn’t told Bobby, he was skeevy. Proud of his reasoning, Dean smirked, only to make a sudden grab and pull Sammy up to him. 

“Sammy,” he hissed, and his brother turned those big, hazel eyes on him. “Remember Poughkeepsie?” Sincere nodding. “If that man is not as ok as Bobby thinks, I’ll say it and you run. Don’t wait for me. Hide in or under the car.” Sam’s little face hardened and Dean hated that he knew how serious this could get.

******  
Cas used his angel senses to look around the room. It was a standard, low level motelroom, so junk was normal, if not expected. But something stood out to him. “Guys? Did you eat candy in here?” He indicated some crumpled up wrappers. To him they glowed purple. 

Dean jutted up his chin. “No, and so what if we did?”   
Biting his lip, Cas thought out his options. “Well, these look home made. Maybe someone messed with them, to make people... sick. Can I take your temperatures?”   
Dean froze, shoving Sam behind him. “Hell no! You ain’t coming near me with a thermometer!” 

Rolling his eyes, Cas sighed. “Just two fingers to the head, like any normal person. I wouldn’t need to break out the thermometer right away, only if I think you are feverish. Do yo feel feverish, Dean?” 

Defiantly, Dean looked him in the eye. “No.”   
Cas shook his head slightly. “Ok then. I will put these two fingers to your head and feel. Is that allright with you?” Dean bitchfaced, but stood still as Cas put his fingers dead centre of his brow.

Cas probed, and found the same purple glow in the boy’s system. “Ok, you seem fine, Dean. Sam...”   
Sam stepped up, honest eyes locking onto Cas’. “I don’t feel sick, mr. Cas, sir. But I understand you need to be sure.” 

Cas deadpanned. He so wanted to smile. Sam was surprisingly eloquent for his age, and his prowess in language had suddenly raised within five minutes. He suspected Sam had tried to sound engratiatingly cute, to try and mislead him. Smart kid. He sent a probing pulse of Grace through Sam’s body too. Sure enough, there was that purple glow. “No elevated temperature for you either. Healthy, young boys... good. What were you doing before I showed up?” 

Sam tilted his head at him. “Trying to find our clothes... but we only found these... Dean was wrapped in that shirt, and I was in this, but it’s so big.”   
The indicated shirt hung around the boy’s lean frame and it dragged across the floor, even though Sam had hoisted it up. 

“I see.” Cas nodded. “Well, how about this? I will get you normal sized clothes, and some real food. Your uncle Bobby is coming over too. Maybe he’ll be here when I get back.” 

Dean smirked, and shot a glance at his brother. Being well versed in these silent conversations by now, Cas put on a stern face. “And I can find you easily. I did before. Don’t try any, what was it, Dean? Funny business?” 

Dean looked cowed. “Yes sir... I’m sorry.”   
Cas smiled. “Just call me Cas. I’m not your Father.”   
A glance up through those thick lashes. “Ok... Cas.” It rolled off his tongue easily. Cas nodded and walked out, only to fly off once he knew the boys couldn’t see him.

First, Cas popped in at Bobby in his truck, who swerved and cussed. “Gods tits, boy! Don’t do that to a body! I ain’t no spring chicken, I could die of the surprise.”   
Cas knew Bobby was just worried about the Winchesters, and he took it out on anybody. “I’m sorry, Bobby. But I got a chance to examine them. They both were affected by witchcrat, and I suspect it was by eating enchanted candies.” 

Bobby cussed again. “They were investigating missing adults, but if the witch de-aged them too...”   
Cas sighed. “I’m getting them properly fitting clothes. How about I get some costumes too, then go trick or treating with the ‘kids’ and get that witch to tell us the counterspell.” 

Bobby looked doubtful.   
“Bobby, we need grown up Winchesters. And John took them hunting...”   
This time, Bobby frowned. “Not Sam. Not at age four. Hells, not even at age nine... Dean, Yeah, at eight years of age, that boy had already had a few salt and burns, and a wendigo hunt.” He rubbed his eyes. “UGH. Fine. But don’t do anything until I’m there.” 

Cas regarded him affectionately, and zapped the car along a few states. In the dark, all two lane blacktops looked the same. “I will see you there.” he said and went to get the boys clothes.


	3. Chapter 3

“Deeee.. Come on. Mister Cas said we shouldn’t leave.”   
Dean scoffed. “Yeah... that asshat did say that. But we don’t know him from Adam, so...”

Sam seemed to ponder that. “True, but he also phoned unle Bobby, who said he would come over. If we run now, uncle Bobby will be **pissed**.”   
Worry swirled in Dean’s gut. ‘Crap, the little snotnose is right... but on the other hand...’ He ran his hand through his hair. “He also lied, Sammy. He said **you** called him. Why would you call him? You don’t even **know** him. And where would you get his number? And how is that little thing a phone? This isn’t Star Trek! I don’t trust him, Sammy.”

Sam narrowed his eyes in that thinking way he had. “I say we wait and see if uncle Bobby does show up. If he doesn’t, we know mister Cas lied.”   
Dean ruffled Sam’s hair. “You’re too smart sometimes, Sammy. You should become a doctor, or a lawyer or something smart like that.”

Sam grinned, all dimples. “I’d like that. A lawyer... help innocent people.”   
Dean forced a smile at that. He knew Sam could do that, but him and Dad... they’d do the same, only by killing fuglies in the dark. The sound of a car, slowing on the parkinglot gravel, had him snapping his head towards the window.

“Crap... That’s probably him. C’mon, Sammy. Hide under the bed, then we’ll see how he reacts. That should tell us something...” He pushed his brother under the crappy bed and slid in next to him, eyes on the crack under the door.

Footsteps sounded, but soft and careful. ‘He is trying to sneak up...’ Dean thought, biting his lip. The door opened softly and Dean could see scuffed boots entering.

“Dean? Sam? You idjets hiding?”   
Sammy shot out from under the bed with a cry of: “Uncle Bobbyyyy!” before Dean could even think of shapeshifters.   
Bobby caught the human comet, and held him close before pulling back and looking the kid over. “Hey Sam. Balls, you look different...”   
Dean relaxed. That probably was Bobby. He fished his silver dollar out of his backpocket, just to be safe, and followed Sam. “Hiya, uncle Bobby.”

The scruffy beard twitched, indicating a smile. “Hi, Dean. Boy, you need to grow into that shirt.” Dean choked back a sob and flung himself around the older Hunter’s legs.

“It’s ok, son. You must have been scared. Do you remember getting here?”

Dean hugged him closer, slipping the coin up the gap between Bobby’s shirt and pants. Nothing, not even a hiss. He relaxed. Then the question registered.“N...no. Uncle Bobby, what happened?”

The Hunter set them both on the bed, one to each side of him. “I ain’t sure, son. But Cas might know a bit more. Where is he?” Bobby seemed surprised Cas wasn’t there.

“He went to get us better clothes, uncle Bobby. And proper food.” Sam chimed up.   
Bobby nodded. “I’d say that would be necessary. Well, we’ll just have to wait for him then.”

Dean bit his lip. “Uncle Bobby.... I have to tell you something.”   
Sam and Bobby threw him a double, confused look. “What is that, Dean? About how you got here?”   
Dean shook his head. “No. About this Cas... he... he didn’t walk in the room... he just... popped up.”

Dean eyed Bobby’s face carefully,to see if he was alarmed, but the older man sighed and rolled his eyes. “Castiël... get back here, ya idjet.”

Sam snorted a giggle, and even Dean smirked.   
“That’s not gonna bring him...” Dean began, but got interupted by the sound of wings fluttering.

“Hello, Dean, Sam, Bobby. I brought supplies.” Cas said.  
Sam squeaked and Dean felt he had swallowed his tongue.   
Bobby shook his head. “Cas, you damn idjet. These boys don’t **know** about you yet, remember? I hope you ain’t scarred them for life.”

Dean gaped. “What the Hell? Bobby?”   
Bobby smirked at him. “Yep, he’s ok. Just confused. He always forgets to add the ‘uncle’ if I surprise him.”

Cas put the bags down. “My apologies, Dean, Sam. I hope I didn’t alarm you too much.”   
Dean looked from him to Bobby and back.

“Could someone tell me what the Hell is going on here?” Sam’s voice piped up.

******  
Cas ducked his head to hide the start of the smile that was forming. They always underestimated Sam, and at times, he caught them off guard with it. “I can, but I need you to be open minded. Can you do that?” Sincere nods from both Winchesters.  
“I am an angel. No, I don’t have a harp, Dean.”

It was satisfying to hear the click with which the boy shut his mouth.   
“And my wings are not visible to human eyes. I can show you a shadow of them, Sam, but nothing solid.”   
Sam nodded seriously.

“You were here, to investigate a witch, but something has happened...” Bobby cut in, eyes flashing warnings at Cas. “We don’t know what happened, but your Dad ain’t reported back.”

Dean stiffened and Sam bit his lip.   
“We gotta go get him, uncle Bobby.” Dean urged.

Cas sighed. “That’s why I am here. I could pose as your father, and go trick or treating with you. See if we can find the witch.” Sam’s eyes lit up, but Dean looked thoughtful.

“You’re an angel, right? So you can do magic?” Dean asked, throwing him a calculated look.

Cas smiled. “A bit, but it is hard to cast a spell over an angel, so that is an advantage.”

Dean hummed. “Sammy stays here.”   
This was met with a disappointed squawk from Sam.

“I’d rather not leave him, Dean. It could be more dangerous than taking him.”   
Dean narrowed his eyes at him, protective brother mode on. “Bobby can guard him...”

Uneasy, Cas looked at Bobby.   
The old Hunter sighed. “Actually, I can’t, son. I had to interupt a hunt to come see you boys. Just trust Cas, ok? He really is an angel.”   
Dean heaved a sigh. “Fine. But he dresses up too.”   
Trepidition crawled up Cas’ spine. This could get awkward.


	4. Chapter 4

“C’mon, Cas... show us what you have!”   
Dean was bouncing up and down on the bed, thrill of the hunt buzzing through him. Sam looked super cute in his little Luke Skywalker outfit, and he, Dean, looked **awesome** in his Clint Eastwood costume. They could do this. They could find Dad, and gank the witch.

“I am not sure about this, Dean...” The gravelly voice sounded uncertain indeed.   
“Come on, mister Cas... I bet you look really cool.” Sam pleaded.  
Dean smirked. “Yeah... you already had most of the look... come on! Show us!” The bathroom door opened, and Cas stepped out.

Dean squealed in delight and Sam whooped.   
“You look just like him. Just need the cigaret.” Dean observed.   
Cas scrunged up his nose. “That’s disgusting. Those things kill humans, you know?”

Dean grinned widely. “Yeah, but John doesn’t care, because he knows he won’t die of cancer anyway.”   
With a sigh, Cas ran his hand through his, now blonde, hair. “I hope the glamour holds until we find the witch.” He fiddled with his, now red, tie. Sam picked up the comic that Dean had shown them and held it up so he could compare it to Cas.

“Amazing... he makes a very good John Constantine. Look Dean.” Dean compared the comic to the angel, and grinned.   
“Just the cancer stick...”   
Cas glared at him. “I will glamour that too. I have no intention of inhaling that filth.”  
Dean hopped off the bed. “Ok then, let’s go!”

******  
They rang yet another doorbell, and Dean suffered through the cooing and squees of “oooohhh what an adorable little Jedi... and such a handsome cowboy.” This lady actually looked at their chaperone and a blush crept up her cheeks. “Hello, mister. Your... sons?” Cas nodded and the lady smiled. “They are adorable. Are you in costume too?”

Sam piped up, in his cutest voice. “Yes... our daddy is John.. Cosn... Consa... who was he again, De?”   
Dean rolled his eyes, all part of the act. “John Constantine, missus. You know? From the Hellblazer comics.”

The lady scanned Cas from head to toe. Cas put the glamour cigaret to his lips and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Dean... I’m sure the lady doesn’t know...”   
The lady shivered, as soon as Cas spoke. “Actually, I do. And where is your... wife? I would love to see her costume.”

Sammy let his eyes swim with tears. “Mommy is in Heaven... Daddy said we will see her again, but only after we go up there too.”   
That earned them two full scoops of candy from her bowl, and a teary-eyed “I’m so sorry. Call me if you need a break.” plus a napkin with a phonenumber for Cas.

Dean grinned hugely as they walked up to the next house. “Really, this is a seriously good con. You should come with us way more, Cas.”   
Cas cast him a weird look. “I would like that, Dean. I really would.”   
He sighed, placing the glamour cigaret in his mouth again.   
“Let’s see if this is the house.” he said and opened the gate.

Dean liked Cas, despite his initial qualms about him being an angel. The lady who opened the door glared at Cas, then smiled at him and Sam. “Hello boys... you’re out late.” The rebuke was clear and she cast another glare at Cas.

“Yes. In our own neighbourhood, most people don’t want trick or treaters at their door. So we drove to this neighbourhood to try our luck.” Cas answered as he dragged at the fake cigaret, earning himself another deathglare.   
“Do you **have** to smoke near the kids, sir?” The sentence was polite, but the tone was poison.

Cas widened his deep blue eyes and looked at Dean. Dean could almost hear his warning. He pulled Sammy closer.   
“It’s part of my costume, madam. The cigaret is totally fake.” Cas explained.

The lady hummed and thrust out a bowl with candy. Dean eagerly picked one, as did Sam. Then the lady sent a fake smile at Cas. “I’m sorry for being rude. Please, have one too.”

Cas eyed the candy, and Dean swore his eyes briefly lit up, litterally. Next thing he knew, Cas pushed the lady inside and gestured with his head at them to come in. Sam closed the door. “What is in those candies, witch?” Cas growled, his arm over her throat.

“Hunter...” she gasped, scrabbling at his arm in vain. Cas quirked up the corner of his mouth, but there was no humour to it.   
“Close.” he replied, making his eyes shine again.   
The witch whimpered. “What are you?”

Sam looked up at Cas, smiling. “He is an angel, you Fugly. He can smite your ass.”   
Dean bit his lip. “Sammy... no sassing the witch.”   
Sam gave him the puppy look. “But Dean....” he whined.   
The witch gasped. “Winchesters... again!”

Cas suddenly had a wicked, spike like knife in his hand. “Indeed. And you are going to set this right. Undo the spell.”   
The witch smirked. “It’s so easy... yet no one ever gets it... These parents, they drag their kids along, because it is the thing that is done. But they don’t care for their offspring. They just go through the motions. They don’t deserve the love they get from their children.”

She raised her hand. “So now they’re children without loving parents too. If just one of them finds a loving, parent-like figure that kisses their booboos, they’re all free.” She started cackling. “And now you will all die with me, and no one will know! Incandio!”

Suddenly the whole room was in flames. Cas yelled for them. “Dean! Sam!”   
Through the smoke, Dean couldn’t find Cas, even though he was close, Dean knew he was close. He swiped his hand around, coughing, and clasped onto the warm arm he found.   
“Dean? Is Cas ok?” That was Sammy’s voice. Dean breathed in relief. Sammy was with him.   
“Cas! CAS!” He coughed, and his eyes stung, but he wanted to know if Cas was ok too. The angel had said nothing about being fire proof.

“DEAN! DEEAAAN! SAM! SAAAM!” The gravelly voice rang out, somehow louder than possible. The room started spinning around Dean, and he could sense Sam collapsing next to him. That bitch had been right, they would die here. It was the last thing that went through his mind before it blinked out. He just registered warm hands on his back and knew nothing more.


	5. Chapter 5

He woke to warm lips, pressed to his temple. He opened his eyes and caught a flash of tan, white and blue. “What the Hell? Cas! Did you... what?!”   
Cas sat back, a satisfied air around him. From somewhere in the room, Dean could hear Sam. “Bobby? What? Did you just... kiss me?”

A deep chuckle sounded. “I’d say it worked, Cas.” came Bobby’s amused voice.  
Dean sat up, blanket and sheets dropping from his chest. “What the... ok. Quick question, before I officially freak out.”

Cas tilted his head at him, waiting for the question.   
Dean struggled with it, but all that came out was: “What the Hell? Just... what the Hell?”   
Bobby chuckled again.   
“What do you remember, Dean?” Cas asked, tone super serious.   
“Just... getting here, knocking on doors...”

Sam coughed. “Getting candy, and eating it, Dean...”   
Dean shrugged. “So? Can’t a guy eat candy he gets from a nice lady?”   
Cas shook his head. “Not if it is enchanted by said lady, Dean.” he said with a hint of reprove.

Sam smirked. “Yeah, and you ate like three of them. Last thing I remember was looking over at you, and you’re **eight**. Was that a dream?” he asked, looking at Bobby questioningly.

The older Hunter shook his head. “Nope. And I wouldn’t be so quick to blame Sam. You ended up being four again.”   
Sam snapped his head around to Cas. “What? Really? I only had one!”

Cas shrugged. “I guess the amount of taken years was fixed. It only took longer to affect you, because Dean ate more. That’s why I got your adult distress call, but found you both de-aged when I got here.”   
Sam frowned. “I didn’t call you...”   
Cas smiled. “Not consciously, no. Be glad I kept an ear out. We found the witch and got the counter...spell.”

Dean caught the pause and eyed his best friend suspiciously. “What was it?”   
Cas looked away, but Dean saw a blush creeping up the angel’s cheeks. “Bobby? What the Hell happened?” he demanded.   
Dean pulled the sheets away to get up, but quickly snapped them back. “Cas... Bobby...” His voice was carefully calm. “Would you care to tell me why I’m **naked**?”

From the other bed Sam squealed, then regrouped and managed a quaky: “Yeah... same question here.”

******  
“... then I finally found you. You were unconscious from the heat and smoke, so I picked you up and flew here. I healed you, but kept you sleeping, to decrease the level of stress. Seeing as I am basically your guardian, and Bobby has always been your honourary father, we took a chance.” Cas ended his story.

Dean sighed and took a large swig of his beer. “I get that you had to basically be Prince Charming and all, to break that bitch’s spell, but why... were... we... **naked**?” That seemed to bother him most. Bobby was of no use. The old man stonefaced and said nothing.

Cas looked his friend in the eye and earnestly said: “You were wearing childrens clothes, Dean. Do you honestly think they would grow with you?”

Dean winced, his eyes glancing over to the chair where the childrens costumes lay. “I guess not... Thanks, Cas.” Then he sighed. “Wish I could remember though. We never went trick or treating... Would’ve been sweet to see those costumes on.”

Bobby grinned and shoved his phone under his nose. “I took the liberty.” he said.   
Cas glanced over Dean’s shoulder at the screen. The picture was quite good.

“Sweet Constantine, Cas. Even the cigaret...”   
Cas rolled his eyes. “It was a glamour. I didn’t even know they hold on camera.”

******  
After Cas had asessed the return of any and all missing adults that the witch had de-aged over the years, Dean looked at his phone. He had quickly mailed himself the photograph. His eight year old self looked great in his Clint Eastwood costume, and four year old Sam made an adorable Luke Skywalker. But Cas... with the blonde hair, red tie and cigaret, he looked 100% like badass John Constantine. Even the deadpan he had leveled at the camera, was pure Constantine. Dean smiled. They **did** look like a dad and his kids, going out for trick or treating.


End file.
